


whilst you chid me, I did love

by moreofalark



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Gen, drama club, literally i wrote this in 2016 and now i think its cute have it universe take it, shakespeare au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 04:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18771283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moreofalark/pseuds/moreofalark
Summary: the shakespeare drama club high school au no one asked for. written in 2016, posting now. maybe i'll finish it? just reread it and thought it was cute and im feeling impulsive so here we are.





	whilst you chid me, I did love

Jehan Prouvaire spent the first 18 years of their life longing for artistic freedom. Even with all of their analytical papers and tremendous enthusiasm, the public school administration of Lowell, Massachusetts did not seem to appreciate artistic nudity, thought-provoking subject matter, or truly anything representative of the modern musical. By their senior year, determined to break their spirit, the school board gave the drama club no money to produce any kind of show. As the previous year’s production of Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson was not met with enthusiastic audiences, the drama club had no money. At all. The information reached Jehan in an awfully formal email the night before their first day of senior year. 

“Shit.” Jehan dropped their head onto their keyboard ceremoniously. “Shit, R. They aren’t giving us any money.”

Grantaire looked up at them from where he was lounging on the floor. “Well, this is a capitalist society, money doesn’t just grow on trees.”

Jehan’s fingers flitted to the tail of their long, auburn braid. “No, R, they aren’t giving the drama club any money. We can’t even afford the rights to a play.” 

Grantaire’s eyes widened. 

“We can’t do a show this year. The drama club is dead.” Jehan spiraled, knees pulled to chest on their worn office chair, eyes watering as the compressing panic spread through their limbs until the only thought remaining was white noise. Grantaire said nothing, wrapped his arms around Jehan’s slim form in solidarity. Jehan appreciated that Grantaire didn’t give artificial hope, his almost desolate realism prefered over pointless enthusiasm.

For the rest of the evening, the pair remained nearly silent, Grantaire allowing Jehan to wallow in bad nineties movies and ridiculous amounts of hot chocolate. It wasn’t until it was almost midnight, as they finally reached the romantic climax of Ten Things I Hate About You, that Grantaire paused the movie playing on Jehan’s computer and looked at his friend with wide eyes.

“How about Shakespeare?”

“What about Shakespeare?” Jehan drew back.

“It’s public domain,” Grantaire shrugged. “All of Shakespeare’s work has been around for over fifty years, it’s free for anyone to use.”

“Oh!” Jehan’s brain spun. “And if we can’t afford a performance space we can do the show in parks and schools! Well, joke’s on the administration, I love Shakespeare.” At the enthusiasm on his friend’s face, Grantaire couldn’t help but smile.

 

The next morning Jehan was pleasantly surprised to find a thermos of hot tea sitting on their desk in homeroom. They glanced down at their phone to see a text from Grantaire. 

[From: (R) 07:43]  
>> enjoy ur tea ;)

[From: (R) 07:44]  
>> i have posters to hang up ... r u free first period?

[From: (faerie queen) 07:52]  
>> thank u dear !!! i am free first hour

[From: (R) 07:53]  
>> get rekt

Jehan smiled despite themself. They and Grantaire had been best friends since freshman year, when Jehan’s hair was unnaturally lilac and Grantaire wore shirts with memes. They were both in the group of stoner kids, the delinquents who hung out behind the convenience store across the street from the school. Jehan still has the poems lining their walls from that year, the memories of an angsty, determined teenager full of false euphoria at being fully grown. They had been sure that smoking was the cool thing to be doing, and they were so pleased with themself for having friends that they ignored schoolwork and all responsibilities. Looking back, Jehan could see they had been outrageously hipster, determined to wallow in their angst to feel grown up and validated. 

There was no sudden change, no realization that they were in with the wrong crowd: one day Grantaire was the only other person who showed up to smoke during first period. They could have smoked, but didn’t. Instead they filled the hour with talk of mythology and Thoreau. The next day they found an empty stairwell and talked more, this time of surrealism and Picasso and Harry Potter (they bonded over the knowledge that they were both Ravenclaws). Thus they slowly diverged from the stoner kids, hanging out with each other more and more until they were inseparable by the start of sophomore year. 

People asked if they were dating all the time, but Grantaire and Jehan were soulmates of the platonic measure, spirits intertwined closely but with no unnecessary strings attached. Or, as Grantaire called them once, “friends with benefits without the benefits.” Jehan chortled to themself as the shrill bell rang to signal the start of first hour. Jehan considered it a sign that they and Grantaire had had first hour study together for all four years of high school. Grantaire said it was pure luck.

“Speak of the devil.” Jehan rounded the corner to find Grantaire, hair wild and arms full of multicolored papers. 

“Were you talking to the ghosts about me?” Grantaire said as they started together down the hall.

“I was thinking about you.”

“Oh God, never do that.” Grantaire reached for the pile of posters.

“Let me look.” Jehan grabbed a poster from the pile to see lilac lettering jumping out from a sea of green trees. “Wow.”

“You might wanna... do a play that takes place in a forest. I assumed you were gonna do a comedy but I didn’t put any, like, actual clowns on it or anything because clowns are creepy as fuck...”

“I love it.” 

Grantaire looked up. “Really?”

“Of course, dumbo, your art is amazing. And the forest isn’t a problem, we could do A Midsummer’s Night Dream... Oh! Or! We could do As You Like It!”

“Is there a forest?”

“Yeah, they go into the forest of Arden, and there’s a female lead, and tons of prose and shepherds and trees...”

“Did someone mention shepherds? ‘Cause I get to dissect a sheep heart in bio this year and I’m very excited, so any particularly ethical shepherds should cover their ears,” an eager voice called from down the hallway. Jehan turned to see Joly meandering towards them, a wide grin spread across his moonish face.

“The important bit is the Shakespeare, Joly.” Musichetta sauntered up behind the pair with Bossuet on her arm. She kissed Grantaire sweetly on the cheek as she plucked a flyer from his grasp. “Are we doing Shakespeare this fall, love?” 

“Are there dinosaurs in Shakespeare?” Bossuet asked, glancing over Musichetta’s shoulder.

Jehan tucked a strand of hair behind their ear. “Yes to Shakespeare, sadly no to dinosaurs.”

“Maybe next year, Lesgel,” said Musichetta. Grantaire took the poster from her arms and taped it next to a row of lockers. 

“We’re seniors.”

“Maybe they’ll have a dinosaur theatre troupe in college?” Joly added. 

“What show are we doing?” Musichetta asked, turning her attention to Jehan. 

“As You Like It? I haven’t really looked into it,” Jehan replied. “Auditions will be on Thursday after school in Mr. Madeline’s room.”

“That’ll be amazing. I love As You Like It.” Musichetta elbowed Jehan supportively. 

“I just want some darn dinosaurs,” Bossuet mumbled. 

“Don’t worry,” Jehan said pointedly, taping another poster above the water bubbler. “There may not be any dinosaurs, but there are tons of puns. The show is 99% wordplay.”

Joly nearly dropped his cane in excitement. 

 

Thursday came too quickly for Jehan’s liking. They spent their free time rereading As You Like It and frantically getting acquainted with their new classes. American Literature was their best AP, but they had art with Grantaire and Feuilly, which made that their favorite period. Although, Feuilly’s origami and Grantaire’s political cartoons had proved to be a very distracting combination. 

They supposed it would have been wise to put up a sign-up sheet for the show, for now Jehan was left paranoid that no one would show up for auditions in the art room that afternoon beside Grantaire. Even when Feuilly swore he would be there, Jehan still felt hopeless, for one can hardly perform Shakespeare with a cast of three. 

Jehan filed out of their already forsaken calculus class right as the bell rang Thursday afternoon, numbness creeping into their fingers. As confident as they might be onstage, they still got nervous directing large groups of people. They created the drama club in sophomore year with Grantaire as vice president and moral support, and Mr. Madeline, the art teacher, as the chaperone. Now, in their senior year, they felt the pressure to make this year’s fall production the best they could be so that the drama program didn't disappear after they graduated.

Jehan wordlessly moved to their Shakespeare poster-plastered locker, nearly hitting their head on their lock when Grantaire appeared suddenly beside them. “Hey. Guess what. Enjolras is auditioning for As You Like It,” Grantaire said breathlessly, looking at Jehan significantly as if pausing for dramatic effect. “I was talking to Courfeyrac coming back from French last period, and he said that Combeferre nerded out about Shakespeare so now all three of them are coming to auditions.” 

“Wait, I’m sorry, Courfeyrac?” Jehan questioned, mind spinning. 

“Yeah, you know Courfeyrac,” Grantaire replied. “We all went to the same middle school.”

“But he moved to Florida.”

“Yeah, and he’s come back.” Grantaire stopped turned to face Jehan. “Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, fine...” Jehan shouldered forward, cheeks red. They only knew Enjolras from afar- Grantaire, however, had been head over heels for the blonde for as long as Jehan could remember. The pair had only interacted three times, and during all of those Enjolras had seemed distant and almost rude. Grantaire thought he was an angel. 

Combeferre Jehan knew from freshman biology. The boy was a genius, and he was so put together that Jehan was more than a little intimidated by him. They knew Joly and Combeferre had AP bio together this year, but Jehan hadn’t seen him since. 

But Courfeyrac... Jehan had met Courfeyrac in sixth grade. They were in drama together before the theatre program in Lowell had all but shut down. Courfeyrac was the human embodiment of the sun; he was charismatic, friendly, and ridiculously energetic. Jehan wished they could say they had been friends with him, but in reality they had been too shy to ever speak to him. By the end of sixth grade, Courfeyrac was one of the most well-liked kids in the whole school, comfortable in his body and strong beliefs while Jehan was left to admire him from afar. Courfeyrac moved to Florida in ninth grade for his dad’s job, leaving Jehan feeling their anxiety had got in the way of everything. 

“Hey.” Grantaire put his hands on Jehan’s shoulders. “It’s going to be fine, okay? You’re going to do amazing.” Jehan would never be able to express their love for Grantaire in full without it sounding cheesy or cliche. But, truly, Grantaire was a gift with his never swaying loyalty and overwhelming empathy. Sometimes made Jehan ache to know that their friend simply couldn’t see what an amazing person he was.

“You’re wonderful,” they said in earnest, leaning their head on Grantaire’s arm.

“You’re wonderful,” Grantaire deflected.

“No, Grantaire, really. You are a wonderful person and I love you. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Jesus Christ, it’s like a fucking John Green novel with you,” Grantaire retorted, but Jehan could see his flushed cheeks and knew that he was touched. “We should go inside.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t start, you.”

Jehan took a deep breath and opened the door.


End file.
